


This is not a playlist

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4117951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Determined to make a move without being too obvious, Tsukishima struggles with a plan to hint Yamaguchi to certain emotions. Meanwhile, Yamaguchi has no idea what is going on, and deals with a very defensive and guarded Tsukishima. </p><p>The grand plan fails at the 'not being obvious' part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is not a playlist

**Author's Note:**

> There is no greater fun in the world than letting that nerd fuck up, while he tries /so/ hard.
> 
> I always headcanon'd Tsukishima to like electronic music with few lyrics.  
> Listen: [Float 1](http://8tracks.com/fish-wifey/float/) [Float 2 (complete)](https://play.spotify.com/user/mitschiko9/playlist/7wZdG3z6cNgdfM8LIuCiDK)  
> Like and share: [Thanks a lot!](http://fish-wifey.tumblr.com/post/121279696655/float-i-didnt-make-it-for-you-its-not-that)

At the crossing where Tadashi tends to drift off for extra serve practice with Shimada, Tsukishima comes to a hold. For a moment, Tadashi believes Tsukishima wants to join him. The wishful thinking of practicing his serves to Tsukishima’s lousy receives doesn’t hold for long. 

“Yamaguchi, do you need your mp3-player tonight?” 

“Huh, what? Why are you asking that?” Tadashi tilts his head to the side, hands in his pockets, observing Tsukishima’s impatience when his feet hit the gravel with an exhale from the nose. He fingers the device and the attached in-ear headphones a little. 

“Simply answer yes or no.” 

“Not particularly.” Yamaguchi fishes his player from the pocket of his pants, holding the device out to Tsukishima. “Why do you need it?” 

“Just want to check out your music.” Tsukishima takes it off Tadashi’s palm and puts it in his bag, letting the headphones dangle out. There’s moment of silence, Tsukishima staring at Tadashi, as if he waits for something more. When the only thing happening is Tadashi’s rise of confusion, Tsukishima turns his back to Tadashi, leaving. “I’m returning it tomorrow. Bye.” 

Tadashi stands at the cross-road puzzled, watching his friend walk away with hands on his own white headphones, ready to be slipped over his ears, waiting. 

“Yeah, see you, Tsukki.” Tadashi’s body turns to the Shimada market, but his eyes are still on the retreating figure. 

*~*~*

Head in his hand, Kei taps the pulsating sense of a headache with his fingers, staring at his computer screen. Coming up with names is hard. His eyes gaze at the list of songs for inspiration, up and down, stilling on the title ‘Stay closer’. Clicking on it and letting it play, he leans back in his chair. For the third time, he debates pulling this song off the track list. It’s too obvious, and Yamaguchi’s last English test had a pretty good score too. But then again, deleting songs would only decrease the already short playlist more. The decisions stands at keeping the song, including the probability that Yamaguchi won’t focus on the lyrics too much.

Sighing, Kei hunches over his keyboard again, eyes darting across the blank field waiting for a title. ‘Tsukishima playlist’ sounds utterly uncool, and ‘playlist for Yamaguchi’ way too forward and dumb. Not his style in the least. In any case, it shouldn’t be obvious that he made this specially for Yamaguchi. Kei forbids himself to use the term ‘playlist’. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door, followed by his brother opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Yo Kei, what are you doing lil’ bro?” Akiteru comes over where Kei sits at the desk, bowing to take a peek at the screen. Embarrassed reflexes react fast, minimizing the window. 

“None of your business.” 

“Tch! So cold. Fine, hold secrets from your own blood. But finish up, alright? Dinner’s ready.” 

Only when Akiteru closes the door does Kei dare to open the window once more. In a stroke of genius, he changes the keyboard to the English setting, and types a title befitting Yamaguchi, and Kei’s general feelings towards him. He saves it and updates Yamaguchi’s plugged in mp3-player, before taking it out of the usb-port. He shuts his pc down before he can change anything again. Over-thinking isn’t good for his brain any longer. 

Pushing himself off the desk and going for his door, he wonders how he can hide not feeling hungry in front of his family, and trying to at least eat something as to not rouse suspicion from his older brother.

*~*~*

They’re in the club room the next day, when Tsukishima rummages in his bag and returns Tadashi’s mp3-player with a short ‘Here’ without any more information than last night. Tadashi looks from the music device to Tsukishima, whose blank face doesn’t let anything be known. Weird as it felt, Tadashi accepts the inability to be unable to read Tsukishima or sense any reasoning behind his behaviour. Direct communication feels appropriate to use here.

“What did you need it for, anyway?” Tadashi crouches down to his backpack and puts the device away.

Tsukishima jerks his shoulders in response. “We haven’t talked about music for awhile. I felt curious to what you were listening to recently. Now I know.” Pulling his school shirt over his head, Tsukishima avoids all sorts of eye contact, folding the shirt in deliberate slow movements. 

His words only raise more questions, but Tadashi senses they would be rebuffed if he put the inquiry forward once more. Timing, he remembers, helps a lot when dealing with Tsukishima. Instead, he decides to finish getting dressed for practice. Kageyama and Hinata had arrived first as usual, and their second-year seniors were already on the court preparing for practice. 

“I see. We can talk at lunchtime, if you want. I want to know if Tsukki’s musical changes now, too.” Tadashi replied chirpily. Faster, more eager to change for practice, he was done earlier than Tsukishima, who was still at leisure with undressing. 

“If we survive this gruesome morning first. Hinata is more energetic than usual.” Tsukishima said, pulling the laces of his volleyball shoes loose. “We have to watch our heads.” He smiled, looking at Tadashi who snorted and shook his shoulders, nodding. 

“We sure have to.” Tadashi’s hand went through the back of hair, making it unruly. “I’m going to help Narita and Kinnoshita getting the court ready. See you in a bit, Tsukki!” 

*~*~*

Kei watched Yamaguchi leave, then turned to glare to the boy’s backpack, neatly sitting in the shelving units. Exhaling through his nose, Kei calms himself down enough as to not curse out loud. The shithead duo of the second year barge in, and the wild way he tears his practice shirt out from his back goes unnoticed. 

He forgot, in all his cool demeanor and actions, to mention the changes and additions he made last night. Not doing this would bite him later, as it would seem weird to Yamaguchi.

 _Shit_.

*~*~*

Yamaguchi only took his lunch out, nothing else. Even after they cleaned up their desks and started a conversation about music, Yamaguchi failed to touch upon the content of his mp3-player. Driven to the edge rich of nervousness, keen to showcase his talents, Kei glances to the window in preparation. Having his courage beat inside his throat, he pronounced his deeds. 

“By the way, some of the artists I discovered recently, I put them on your mp3, too.” He looked at the corner of his eye, the blind spot where his glasses didn’t reach to enhance his vision. But he saw the blur of Yamaguchi grabbing his backpack. 

“Hehhh, really? Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Yamaguchi thumbed away on his mp3-player. Device in hand, Kei watched nimble fingers search for the added songs. Summer was long over, but Yamaguchi’s skin still held on the tanner tone imprinted by the sun. Kei could make out the colour difference to where Yamaguchi had taped the top of his fingers during the summer camps. He got distracted by Yamaguchi’s brows then, which frowned when he tried to make sense of what he saw on the small screen.

“Fu- Furou-to? Eh, a coffee float?”

“Float,” Kei did his best pronouncing the English word. “Like the jump float serves you’ve been putting so much energy in lately.” Making the title meaning clear. Keeping his emotions at bay and his tone as factual as possible, Kei became sure of his subtlety. 

“Hmm, the names are all kind of hard to read… But thank you, Tsukki! I’ll listen to it after school.” Yamaguchi’s genuine smile and gratitude; the sure-fire way to make Kei’s stomach flip. While Yamaguchi took one last fond look at his music player before he put it in the bag again, Kei took a deep breathe through his nose. Shifting in his seat, he worked hard to keep a neutral expression, and made himself look at Yamaguchi when he spoke again.

“I listen to this kind of music at night, in bed. Helps me sleep.” It was a delicate shift of manipulation. Kei had personal experience to what could happen listening to some of these songs at night, hidden under the covers, thinking about Yamaguchi. If only it could entice the subject of his desire into the same direction, his project would be a success.

“What, no. Don’t be silly.” Yamaguchi snorted, leaning back into his chair. His fingers were at ease on the table, tips touching. Kei watched them a little too long before looking up, seeing Yamaguchi watching him. “I don’t want to fall asleep listening to this playlist you made me. I’ll give it my undivided attention.” 

“I didn’t make it for you, it isn’t that special. Just sharing.” Not too quick, not too defensive. Yamaguchi could pick those things up too easy if Kei wasn’t careful. He had been good at lying to his friend’s face for such a long time. Endangering it now while he was so close would be suicide, and he didn’t think his insides could take that kind of punishment. Kei needed to be patient, only a little while longer.

Yamaguchi tilted his head to the side, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course, Tsukki.” 

The classroom filled up with their classmates coming back from lunches held in the cafeteria, or visiting other classes. Kei made himself look away, trying to look bored. He had been subtle enough. _Nice._

*~*~*

Tadashi didn’t understand half the things he listened to, which didn’t put him off however. Tsukishima had a great music taste, which leaned towards electric trance songs, refined and cool. The tracks were interesting, giving him a good mood. He’d been in a good vibe listening to the first ¾ of the list, which wasn’t a playlist at all. Although Tsukishima claimed it to mean nothing at all, going through the trouble and spending time to make this filled Tadashi’s chest with a warm feeling. The name of the tracklist only increased this. To name it after a volleyball related thing, and something Tadashi tried to master, proved what a good friend he had with Tsukishima.

Understanding what Tsukishima had meant with ‘lying in bed’, Tadashi switched off most lights and went to his bed. The atmosphere became better. Dressed in shorts and a shirt, Tadashi waited till the end of the tracklist, ready to start anew with the atmospheric changes in order. 

Closing his eyes and lifting the hem of his shirt, Tadashi let his fingertips trace circles on his stomach, activating his sensitivity in that area. He bit his bottom lip when his mind took inappropriate turns, his actions so far highlighting that he was much more depraved than Tsukishima, who listened to this kind of music to fall asleep. It got more indecent when Tadashi’s nails tickled lightly over his hipbones, thinking about Tsukishima lying in his bed, bare and innocent. Yet he couldn’t help himself, unable to stop. He remembered one of the songs in the beginning having those words on repeat. The song would soon come up and it could guide him through his actions, like the imaginary devil on one shoulder telling him it was okay.

Shock went through his system, stilling all motion when loud trumpets blew through his ears. Sitting up in an instant, letting the hem of his shirt drop back in place, Tadashi grabbed the mp3-player and looked at the song title, while female vocals sang with the upbeat music. Switching the light on his bedstand back on, bemused bewilderment made his brows furrow. This song was different in every way, popular in the West, and lyric based. Tadashi picked up his phone and typed in a search question.

**Lyric translation Beyonce - Crazy in love**

*~*~*

Giddy and awake way past his usual bedtime, Tadashi had taken the family laptop to his room without anyone seeing him. He had listened to the tracklist a few times, scripting some of the words and given them to an online translator, if he couldn’t find lyric translations. He had compiled most of the words and meanings based on the music Tsukishima had shared with him. The initial surprise had changed to disbelief. Tadashi had tried telling himself that none of this meant anything in particular. Just like Tsukishima had stated this wasn’t a playlist specially made for Tadashi in the first place. 

Tsukishima, who liked electronic music without many words in them. A popular pop song at the end, which could be either a mistake or a joke. Something explainable. Calling the playlist ‘Float’ had been witty, cool, at it fit in a lot of ways. 

_”I listen to this at night.”_ Tsukishima hadn’t said this, or meant this, in the way Tadashi had just tried to ‘listen’ to the songs. None of the facts added up to Tadashi’s dreamworld to turn into a reality. Having fought off his feelings for such a long time, it would be silly to make himself see things, imagine them to have meaning. It was no use falling for a friend, especially not if he simply showed some cool kindness in making this tracklist. No ulterior motive behind it. 

That last song must have been a mistake. ‘Stay closer’ and ‘Faded’ were just cool songs, despite their words. Tadashi had his own immoral mind to thank for seeking lewd implications. His heart had corrupted the rest of his body and his mind. Tsukishima wasn’t like that.

The clock’s hand neared 11 pm, but Tadashi typed a mail on his phone, seeking Tsukishima’s verification. 

**’Crazy in love’? Since when are you a fan of Western R’n’B and pop, Tsukki? Is there something you need to tell me (w).**

*~*~*

“Shit.” 

Kei stared at the message, took in the sender, the ‘www’ in the subject spot. He chased the message spreading out before him with erratic eye movements. The conclusion was simple. His life was over.

When his phone beeped at such a late hour, his heart had skipped. For a moment, he fell for a delusion where he was indeed a genius. For that one, brief moment, Kei believed his scheme to have worked out the way he had intended it too. 

This belief shattered first.

It reminded him to how he first knew he had fallen for Yamaguchi. It had bothered him for a time. That first week of coming to terms with it had been terror. Once he managed to control his head, heart, and arousal whenever he saw Yamaguchi, he tried to forget about it. For once, persistence manifested in him like a stubborn virus, unable to be flushed out by a calm reflection of how stupid it was. When he had understood at last that it was futile fighting his emotions, it had lead him to taking actions. The creation of the tracklist urged him to daydream, type his feelings and what he wanted to convey into a search engine, trying to let other people visualize in a musical way what he felt for Yamaguchi. Blind as he had been, one blasted song ended up on his desktop, and by masochistic design, at the bottom of the the non-playlist he made for Yamaguchi.

Instead of elevating them to the level of ‘just friends’ to ‘more than that’, his actions had brought him into deep shit. There was only one solution, simple and easy. He had to uphold a lie, to feign ignorance. This mission was a failure.

**I have no idea what’re you talking about. My brother must have added it. I never heard of that song.**

Kei hated the way his fingers trembled when he exchanged mails with Yamaguchi. He felt bitter about his heart throbbing in his throat. How the happy stomach flip turned to a pit of foul acid, rumbling up a sad storm of all his idiotic visions crushed. He’d always known, with volleyball, that putting one’s heart and soul into it would amount to nothing. Same here. This is what he got for trying. 

There was nothing else to it but wait for Yamaguchi’s response of ‘Oh I see Tsukki’. Kei sat upright in his bed, unmoving, staring at his phone, trying to glare it into submission, daring it to bring back a bad reply. It took some time, a good five minutes, for Yamaguchi to type back.

**Get a feeling that I never, never, never, never had before**

They kept coming like a bothersome rainfall. All of Kei’s intentions and innuendos explicit in the music he’d chosen, turned to shame him. Bitterness rendered him unable to reply, to think up better excuses. 

**You got me outta control**

**I'm trying to find some kind of excuse. But deep down within my heart, I know the truth**

**Baby, I’m wasted. All I wanna do is drive home to you**

**In regards to last one, you do understand that ‘take you downtown’ isn’t meant in the way of ‘taking you out to dinner’? I looked up the lingo, and it’s really sexual.**

**Mercury & Solace just has too much to choose from. I’m guessing the ‘reaching out’ part is the least polluted.**

“Damnit.” Kei had ended up hunched over his phone screen, head in his heads. His eyes were wide, shocked to how much Tadashi had understood and fired back at him. A strong sense of defeat swamped him, and he tapped to look at the incoming messages, waiting for the one that would end it all. His first love was a tragedy in a few acts. Some time passed between the last message, until his phone vibrated again. Kei waited it out, readying himself for kill shot that would end their friendship. 

When he finally read the message, the anti-climax only brought acid from his stomach to his mouth. Yamaguchi said good night, and ‘see you tomorrow at the bicycle stand’.

*~*~*

The morning is too early, the sun too bright, the world too much at peace. Kei is dead with nerves. Sleep-deprived from the worry and the churning, he doesn’t fidget while he waits at the bicycles. It was a start, not meeting Tadashi at their usual spot. The beginning of the end. 

He hears the footsteps behind him, can’t bring himself to turn around, or look up when Yamaguchi’s feet stand in front of him. Kei stands still like a crane when Yamaguchi’s hands come in sight, the discolouration between tan fingers and lighter fingertips out of sight when they take up Kei’s headphones, placing them over Kei’s ears. He doesn’t understand what Yamaguchi is doing, plugging the end of the headphones in his own mp3-player. Kei cannot see what he’s doing on it, except searching for a specific song. 

The mellow sounds of ‘Starve the ego, feed the soul’ thrum alive in Kei’s ears, and he finally looks up to Yamaguchi, who smiles, standing way too close for personal space to be taken into account. 

And then he kisses him. Kei’s brain cannot react, his eyes stay open, not believing the feel of Yamaguchi’s lips on his own. Hands slip from the headphones to Kei’s neck, which warms at the unfamiliar touch. The hands stay there when Yamaguchi stops, creates distance enough for Kei to see the face redden, shy and excited. Yamaguchi turns the volume down, enough to let his words be heard over them.

“Thanks for the playlist, Kei.”

It’s futile to argue. Kei’s heart stops beating like a maniac and calms down, pumps enough blood to his brain to act. 

“Shut up, Tadashi.” Kei takes his headphones off and places them on Yamaguchi’s ears, pulls him in at the small of his back, and returns the favour.


End file.
